


I Think I'm Falling For You

by Briar_Rose7



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/F, My first SwanQueen fanfiction, just a small thing, non magical au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-14
Updated: 2016-06-14
Packaged: 2018-07-15 02:41:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,042
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7202996
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Briar_Rose7/pseuds/Briar_Rose7
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sheriff Swan wants to build a tree house for her son. Mayor Mills doesn't agree.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Think I'm Falling For You

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is my first non-Rumbelle fic in a very long time, and was inspired by [this](http://sarashouldbestudying.tumblr.com/post/133523875313/otpprompts-imagine-person-a-is-working-on-a) prompt on tumblr. I hope you'll like it!

Everybody knew not to mess with Mayor Mills: she was a strict, no-nonsense woman with no mercy for those who angered her. She was so feared that no one had ever had the courage to come living next to her house.

Well, no one until the new Sheriff came to Storybrooke.

Miss Emma Swan was at the same time a single mother, a beautiful woman and possibly the most badass Sheriff they’d even seen. With such a strong personality, it obviously took her and Miss Mills less than a day to start arguing about… well, about _everything_. Despite their mutual distaste, however, Emma refused to move from the house that she’d chosen when she’d decided to move to Storybrooke, even if it was right next to the mayor’s.

The townspeople were shocked: for the first time since… hell, since anyone in town could remember, someone that wasn’t Mr. Gold was actually standing up to the mayor. 

It was both awesome and terrifying.

Emma didn’t actually mind their rivalry; she’d been fighting her whole life and she had honestly no idea what her life would be like if she were to find a place where she was completely happy; that thought was so distant from what she’d always known that it scared her. Luckily, such a life didn’t seem to be in the cards for her.

Emma Swan’s life in the foster system had meant missing many things that were common for other children, such as having parents, feeling deeply wanted and loved or having a tree house. She’d made sure her son wouldn’t lack the first two (well, he only had _one_ parent but, as he’d once said, she was easily worth _three_ parents on her own, and that was one of the few times Emma had actually cried of joy in front of him) and now she was on her way to build him the coolest tree house ever. She’d already picked the best tree for her purpose, so one summer day she just climbed on it and started working as her son watched her, his eyes shining with enthusiasm. 

She had been working for less than an hour when mayor Mills strode out of her house in all her killer heels glory, her eyes shining with fury. 

“Miss Swan!”, she spat at her, “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”.

Emma was sweating in her white tank top, but Regina was clad as always in one of her flawless suits, despite the hot weather. Emma had never seen her wearing anything less than formal, and was starting to wonder if she slept in designer clothes too. 

“I’m building a tree house. For my son. In my own yard. I don’t really see how this could be your business”.

“I’m my business because you obviously _had_ to pick the one tree that leans a bit over my fence”. Emma rolled her eyes at that, but didn’t stop working.

“I chose the tree that looked perfect for this purpose. If anything falls from here into your yard, feel free to call the Sheriff”. 

“You’re not funny, miss Swan. And how is building a tree house a good idea anyway? You’ll only be putting your son in danger”. Regina eyed Henry, who was obviously trying to hide a smirk. He always found their little fights very funny.

“As you said, he’s _my_ son, and you don’t get to tell me how to be a parent. He’ll be perfectly safe in here”. Regina eyed her skeptically.

“Do you even know what you’re doing?”. This time, Emma actually bothered to look down at the mayor.

“Of course I do! Now, if you’ll only leave me alone so I can focus on my wor…” Before she could finish her sentence, though, the branch beneath her broke.

Emma tumbled down, reading herself to hit the ground or, even worse, the fence between the yards. But she didn’t hit either of them. In fact, her fall ended right on top of her snarky neighbor. Both of them squealed as they hit the ground together, and in the chaos Emma was barely aware of Henry screaming too. After a few agitated moments, she finally came to the conclusion that she hadn’t in fact died and that she was currently sprawled over Regina, who was glaring at her like she was about to strangle her.

“Get. Off. Me. NOW!”, the mayor screamed, and Emma hastily obliged, quickly registering the pain in her scraped hands and probably bruised arm. Apart from that, she was fine. 

“Mom! Are you okay?”. Henry was looking at her over the fence, out of himself with worry.

“Yeah, kid, I’m alright. It gets far more than a fall to hurt me.”

“You’re insane. You just fell _over me_! And you’re acting as if it was nothing!”. Regina was getting up, looking as if she was actually going to slap her, but as she put weight on her right foot she winced in pain and lost her balance, falling right back on the ground.

“Miss Mills, are you okay?”

“Of course I’m not okay, and it’s all your fault”. She was holding her ankle, which was quickly swelling.

“Do you need help waking back into your house?”. Regina noticed that Miss Swan had at least the decency to look ashamed.

“I don’t need anything from you. You’ve already done plenty enough.”

“You _can’t_ walk on that foot, please, let me help you”. In the end, still mumbling words of protest, Regina had to reluctantly accept her help. She put her arm over Emma’s shoulder and the other woman helped her as she limped towards her house.

“Miss Swan, you’re covered in sweat: it’s disgusting.”

“Yeah, that’s the kind of thing you should say to the woman helping you walk.”

“Yes, it’s really an appropriate thing to say if that woman is the one who caused me to sprain my ankle in the first place. And because of you one of my favorite suits is ruined forever.”

“Yeah, sorry about that”.

Emma helped her in the house, but once she was finally sitting Regina quickly shoed her away. Emma, though, didn’t miss to notice the way she told her, with less snark than usual:

“Thank you, Emma.”

  



End file.
